The Morose
by Twelfth Knight
Summary: A jaded assassin enters the house of Irons, head games ensue.


As I watched the sun set I reflected on my own mortality. In my profession you can't afford to stop considering it. The next day would be what I expected to be my final real assignment, the one after just to get rid of something that no longer had value.

When midnight came I headed out to my target's location, armed with my sleek lugar and boot knife. They tended to be my trademarks since the gun was a daring choice—I never bothered to fit it with a silencer. Still I had the benefit of much better accuracy that way.

I knew that I wouldn't need it tonight anyway. There was no way that I could get close enough.

As I thought this the bodyguard slid into view. It was deliberate. I gauged his movement and figured that I could go a few more steps. Once I did I lay down my weapons and held my hands up to him, inclining my head to him slightly.

"I was sent here to kill your master…a task that I do not intend to complete."

I knew that I couldn't win against this one, I'd known since I got the papers.

He cautiously approached and took my weapons as two men came up behind me. There

was no point in resisting.

Next thing I knew I was in the mark's residence. That would have been a smooth move to get in if I were younger. As it was I was old for my profession. Some said I was getting slow. Assassins don't live long lives anyway.

I saw him approach, just like in the videos. He moved like all of them, save for those new to the game.

"Why did you choose to disobey your employer?" he was saying.

I looked up just to see his expression. It was one of cold regard.

"He's a worthless snake." I said and his brow furrowed.

"Really? Then why do you serve him?"

"I supported his cause before…his marks were other lowlifes. This time I was forced."

He looked amused.

"You do realize that if I don't kill you he will."

It was very true.

"At least I'll have chosen my death, I'll go for my reasons and not burden him." I indicated the man in black.

I knew that it was a burden. He had a face under his shell too, we all did, but the more you killed the deeper it hid.

He was amused.

"I wasn't aware that assassins cared much about other people."

He was mocking me.

As he drew close the men holding me drew tighter.

He was very close.

"So you don't want to be dominated in the end, hmm?" he asked.

"Mr. Irons, no one really wants to die, much less under someone's thumb." I responded flatly.

Perhaps it would quicken my fate.

As he looked at me he instructed the stony, black clad guard to prepare a secure room for me, and smiled.

I waited, shackled to something in the main room, while the guard prepared a place for me. If I could have turned to look behind me I was sure that I would have been surprised by the versatility of the building's fixtures. Still my thoughts lay on my fate.

The man in black's master was either trying to figure out an interesting way of disposing of me or planning on toying with me before handing me over for death. Neither scenario surprised me. That's the way it was done.

I didn't have to look up to know who was coming down the stairs. The videos had taught me his movements.

I could feel him coming closer. He intended to toy with me, I realized.

He cleared his throat when he was within an arm's reach. All I did was rotate an eye up. In response he picked up my chin and looked at me in amusement. When my expression didn't change he smiled smugly.

He got close enough where I could have reached his neck, if I'd wanted to. Staring down at me he asked if I had questions about loyalty. I told him that it was a sham and that I had already proven so by giving information about where to find my employer to the men who had chained me to whatever the moveable bar behind me was. A smile spread over his face.

"Aren't you tired of killing? You could do so much more interesting things with your time." He said getting even closer and then backing up to look at me.

"Forgive me for saying this, but you would be wise not to get that close. After all, I am highly trained." I replied coldly.

This was my mask, though everything I said was true. No one really wanted to kill and it had gotten dull to me, though admitting either would have ended my career.

"Kill me…chained?" he outright mocked me, furrowed brow, smile and all.

"I have teeth and you a neck."

His smile was more amused and less mockingly now.

"I see…are you hungry?"

I hated to be played with.

When I refused to answer he had me secured to a large table having one hand free. At first I expected a scene like that in "The Pit and the Pendulum" complete with overly spiced meat and nothing to drink but was surprised when the nature of my food was more along the lines of a good meal.

As he settled into a chair across the table from me, a safe distance, and told me something that I had guessed:

"I'm sorry that I can't provide you with silverware, but imagine, if you could kill me with your teeth what you would be able to accomplish with a fork or spoon." He said it in a sarcastically polite tone that made me wish that I had actually carried through.

He had an evil look of pleasure in his eyes when I examined the meat and realized that I was going to have to hold it up and bite off pieces like an animal. Since I expected that this was likely the only meal that I'd get for what could possibly be days, I ate everything. There is nothing more important than sustenance.

Those smiling eyes the whole time, bite by bite, observed me, mocked me.

After this I wagered that it was quite late and unarmed guards escorted me, lest I take their weapons, to a barely furnished room. There was virtually nothing of use in it, save for a soft rug. I collapsed and fell fast asleep.

When I next woke, who knows how long after I had first laid there, the dark guard was standing over me. He said something that didn't register then took me out into the main room again. My host was waiting, reading an old book. Upon my arrival he put it down on the small table beside him and looked at me.

Everything seemed surreal and I slowly came to the realization that I had been drugged.

"I see that your meal has done well by me" he was saying, crystal clear in my vision but taller due to the weight of my limbs dragging me down.

"Your employer," he continued, "was quite surprised from what I hear to see my friends. Would you like to look at the pictures?" he eyed me viciously.

He didn't seem to grasp the fact that having the power to kill wasn't fun for everyone else. I must have seemed dazed because he came very near me and bent over looking into my face.

"Perhaps you ate too much?"

At that he called over the silent guard and I felt a needle slide into the back of my neck.

Everything became slightly clearer over the next few minutes, though I still felt as if my once agile limbs were made of lead.

"Whatever it takes for him to enjoy me before the big toss," I thought, "he'll do it."

I resolved to not be a good little pet.

The man bent down on one knee and looked at me closer.

"Feeling better?"

I just looked at him wearily.

"You know, I have the power to kill you, don't you?" he said caressing my neck with what I figured must be a dagger.

"Mortality is the chief virtue of men." I told him.

His eyes hardened, all pleasure leaving them and he set his jaw. The dagger rang as it hit the floor, discarded.

He left the guard to deal with me.

I was obviously not a fun toy any longer.

When I next saw him it was with a full contingent of guards around me and my mind was fully cleared.

The mark was stern looking though slightly self-satisfied in appearance.

Finally it was going to be over with.

The quiet bodyguard came over, as bade with a flick of his master's wrist, and put my weapons before me.

"One last game," I thought.

"I'm a merciful man or possibly a fool," he started to say, the look of devilish delight returning to his eyes, "but I don't think I want to kill you."

The words hit me like a blow to the stomach.

"In fact I'm going to let you go." He smiled.

The supreme irony of my situation was now clear to me. The one place that I didn't want to be was where I was to be unloaded. I was to be left alive when I was too jaded and morose, my purpose spent, and all he did was smile.

The End


End file.
